


Kitsune

by Uchitachi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Samurai AU, Samurai Sasuke, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24950656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uchitachi/pseuds/Uchitachi
Summary: Sasuke's a samurai by trade, and is hired to protect a certain 'Lord Namikaze's' son. Between visions of a strange fox, and his pesky cheerful young master, Sasuke can hardly keep up.(Alternatively: Warrior poet Sasuke discovers the importance of his job, and nobleman Naruto just wants to have some fun)
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 29
Kudos: 89





	1. The Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fellas!
> 
> So a few quick things before we start:
> 
> 1- a jisei is a ‘death poem’, usually written at a time where the author senses they’re about to pass. they convey a sense of unity with nature in most cases.
> 
> 2- i know a lot of samurai shaved the plate of their heads for practicality reasons, but ignore that bc uhhhh aesthetics

At dawn, Sasuke wrote.

The manuscript started with a whimper and an arched back, the beast’s teeth tightly secured into its only son’s neck. The son cried out, eyeballs turning to white and arms flailing in the afternoon sun. His red lips twitched, and with the second coming of the eastern wind, his life was gone. 

Sasuke had named the beast honor, and his son Man. He stared down at his ink-soaked parchment and sighed, unable to separate the poem’s reality from his own thunderous rage. He felt it boiled down to this; to the fact that his brother had been a man betrayed by a system so coarse, so keen on shallow pride and formulaic honor, that he had laid down his life and left behind only a letter and a jisei.

The jisei read as such:

散るをいとふ世にも人にもさきがけて 散るこそ花と吹く小夜嵐  
A small night storm blows  
Saying “Falling is the essence of a flower”  
Preceding those who hesitate.

Sasuke still couldn’t accept his choice.

Turning away, he peered through the open window to the moon’s fading glow. In distant times the sight had soothed his frayed nerves, but it seemed now only to aggravate his pain. With a trembling hand he lay down his brush, and with a shuddering breath blew out the flame of the candle that sat on the wooden desk.

It was a nice desk, a very nice inn too, he thought. It was a pity to have to leave, but such was his destiny as prescribed by Itachi. The letter he bore gave him only the slightest hope, but he wasn’t so disillusioned as to forget the situation he was in.

Itachi had died of his own blade, and as his student Sasuke was expected to do the same. Instead he had fled, leaving behind the village he had known all his life. Masterless rōnin were deemed dishonorable, and Sasuke had no other trade, except perhaps that of a poet, but the words only ever came to him in times of great distress, times he preferred to avoid. 

“Beyond the great hills,” Itachi had said, “there is someone who owes me for my service. His name is Lord Namikaze. Go to him and give him this,” he’d handed him a small scroll, fastened with a simple barley thread, and smiled earnestly as blood dripped between his shining teeth.

The crisp, cold morning air lashed at Sasuke’s exposed neck as he fondly recalled the scene, and he couldn’t help but wonder who this Lord Namikaze could be. He hadn’t ever heard the name, and hoped that Itachi’s plan was thorough enough to guarantee his safety. And if the plan were to fail he still had his swords, ones he’d used for so long that the leather handles retained the permanent imprints of his palms. 

He had never been skilled with a bow and arrow, and thus had resigned himself to honing his knife skills. Under his usual hakama were daggers fastened against the soft skin of his thighs, and he had learned to walk without having them dig into his flesh. Being a samurai was a thing of discipline, and Sasuke had been raised to be thorough and precise.

The obi at his waist held two sacred swords: the large nagamaki of the Uchiha clan, which he had inherited at his father’s death, and a double-edged tantō that had been gifted to him by Itachi. The swords lay on either side of him at night, and he told himself this was all the company he needed.

With the first rays of the sun he was gone, leaving behind as hefty a tip as he could manage for the innkeeper. With enough luck (and a healthy dose of determination), he could reach the Namikaze estate before dusk, and perhaps even be employed, all before dinner. His stomach rumbled at the thought.

The inn was situated on the gentle downwards slope of a hill, and Sasuke made his way down a sinuous footpath, engulfed by the lush greens and winding tree branches all around. The vegetation extended so far up that he could scarcely feel the sun, and he thanked the gods for this simple blessing: the layers of his uniform were unforgivingly warm, and though he could handle the weight he’d always been weak to sweltering heat. The birds kept him company, whistling songs that felt almost like hymns: nature was, after all, the poet’s temple.

As he approached the bottom of the hill, a swift shock of white fur flashed across his field of vision, and the sudden intrusion stopped him dead in his tracks.

The forest fell silent. 

From behind a blooming bush of camellias came forward a fox. Its silver eyes bore into Sasuke’s, and the latter stood transfixed. 

Through a clearing in the trees the fox caught the light, and its white fur glistened with a silver glow as it approached, still staring Sasuke down. It was enchanting, enveloped in a mystical white fog that Sasuke hadn’t seen in the forest earlier, and sported nine identical tails that ondulated in the glittering light. The fox took its time, moving languidly, almost taunting Sasuke to trust it not to bite his arm off. It circled him, once, twice, and just as Sasuke resolved to bending down and sinking his fingers into the fox’s thick fur, it turned on its heel and started down the footpath before taking a sharp turn to the right.

Sasuke followed, unsheathing his nagamaki to cut down small branches that stood in his path. The fox had abandoned the beaten walkway entirely, and led Sasuke through dense foliage that seemed to grow back behind him, even as he cut it down with his blade. He hardly noticed this quirk of the woods though; the fox was fast and nimble, and following it was everything but an easy task.

He hadn’t given much thought as to why he followed this fox down into an unknown forest, one he couldn’t possibly figure his way out of if he got lost, but somehow his beating heart remained steady. The fox inspired nothing but awe, and an all-encompassing pull that beckoned Sasuke to follow. 

And follow he did, slashing through miles of thick underbrush until he found himself in front of a large wooden fence. The fox was gone, and Sasuke, puzzled, looked back at the forest, though saw nothing of the silver canine. Newer tree branches had grown back in the place of those he had slashed through, and the forest did not retain a single mark of his hasty passage. The birds chirped again.

Beyond the gate a man walked, a nobleman by the looks of it. His flowing sleeves hovered dangerously close to the ground, and yet the man seemed to float gracefully above the still earth. He seemed to be heading for a building to Sasuke’s left, and Sasuke was able to discern at least four other buildings that stood within the perimeter of the fence. It was a large estate built on a slight incline, with little rivers flowing through small gardens all around, and buildings connected by narrow corridors. 

Sasuke had seen estates like this before: the noblemen in his village were fond of this architectural style, and their gardens, which were visible from far before the fence, were incomparably beautiful in spring. When the cherry blossoms bloomed he altered his daily route, only for the simple pleasure of gazing at delicate petals softly swaying in the wind. 

The man beyond the fence hadn’t noticed Sasuke’s hopeful gaze, but by force of instinct Sasuke called after him.

“Lord Namikaze?” he asked, loud enough for the man to hear, but polite enough to respect his higher status. He supposed it had to be him, this elusive Lord Namikaze, though why that intuition was so vivid he couldn’t say. 

The man turned back towards the fence, brows furrowing slightly as he stared, and his lips tightly pulled together until he spoke “Who gave you that name? That man is dead,” and Sasuke felt his porcelain heart shatter within his hopeful chest. 

“My brother sent me, sir,” and he bowed his head, extending his arm to the fence to show the man the scroll, “I come bearing Itachi’s word,” and at the sight of the lettering on the beige scroll, the man’s eyes grew ever so slightly bigger. It read ナルト, or Naruto, a name Sasuke had never heard, but he assumed it was of the utmost importance because the man had looked up at him in shock, hastily grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside the fence. 

Closing the little wooden door, the man urged Sasuke to follow him on the sinuous path that led from the front entrance to the estate’s main building. It was a walkway that ondulated through little patches of flowers and artificial rivers lined with moss and little toads that rested cheerfully on large green leaves. Safe from the rustling of the man’s robes and the clinking of his swords, Sasuke couldn’t discern a single sound that didn’t come from the flowing rivers and the toads. It was strange, how uncomfortable this peaceful place made him feel. He swallowed down the feeling just as they reached the building’s entrance.

The man had taken hold of the scroll when he’d dragged Sasuke inside, and he slid the door open with his one free hand. A waft of incense tickled Sasuke’s nose as they entered the room, and the man led him to a low table where they sat down opposite of each other. The man carefully opened the scroll, discarding the barley thread onto the wooden floor, and then read aloud:

“Lord Namikaze,

If my young brother has crossed your path, you can know with absolute certainty that, much like the flower that blooms in spring and wilts in autumn, my time has come and gone. 

Rest assured, Sasuke is an honorable man, but his talents would be wasted were he to follow my example and pierce his own flesh. He wields the blade with twice the dexterity I had, and is the finest Uchiha-born man that still walks this earth.

I hear of your son, Naruto, (at this the man paused, looking at Sasuke with knitted brows before he continued) and of the help you require in protecting his ‘gift’, shall we say?

With my dying breath, sir, I assure you that you will find Sasuke most adequate. 

Ever yours,

Itachi Uchiha”

At every word that the man spoke, Sasuke had felt his pulse quicken, and the effects of his previous dash through the forest made themselves known. Sweat pearled in delicate drops along his collarbones and forehead, and he wiped it away with the back of his sleeve as subtly as he could.

“You must understand,” the man started in a restrained tone, “that though this letter is addressed to my late master, Lord Namikaze, I have known your brother as well,” he stood up, and reached for a little porcelain jug. He poured two glasses of the sake in complete silence, and slid one of them across the table to Sasuke as he sat down and resumed his thought.

“My name is Lord Yamato, and when I first moved to this estate, I was a warrior too. Lord Namikaze had hired a samurai to look after his son, Naruto, but the young man was needed back home. His mother had just birthed her second child, and the household needed his assistance,” at this he paused, watching Sasuke’s expression grow from confusion to understanding.

“It was Itachi!” and Yamato nodded, a small smile creeping onto his otherwise stoic face.

“Your brother had to train me to replace him, and in all these years, I never thought I’d see his features again. You really do look alike,” and Sasuke flashed a sheepish smile, feeling a swell of pride at the comparison. He had always admired Itachi, and the letter coupled with the recognition from Lord Yamato, it felt like things fell into place for the first time since his parents’ demise.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though, Sasuke,” Yamato chimed in, interrupting Sasuke’s train of thought. His face had regained the serious expression that sent chills down Sasuke’s spine, and the younger’s posture immediately stiffened again, “In dying, Itachi created a sizable stain on your honor, and though I grant him this dying wish and put you under my employ, I expect you to earn my true respect,”

Sasuke bowed deeply, forehead to the glossy wood of the table before him as he talked, “Of course, sir, I shall not let you down,”

Yamato downed the remainder of his sake and smiled, satisfied, “Alright then, boy, let me show you to your quarters,” and Sasuke followed him to his new room, leaving his cup of sake untouched on the little wooden table.

Yamato had led him through a corridor to a little room to the left of the main building. They had talked for quite a while, it turned out, because the moon was peeking through the clouds again. The room was nice, a little thing similar to his room at the last inn where he’d stayed. He had unrolled his futon directly under the little window, and the moonlight poured into the space, drenching everything in its bluish hue. He lay staring at the door, swords on either side of his body, and felt his eyelids droop as he drifted into a deep sleep.

He came to in a dream that was nothing but a faithful replica of the room he was in. The moon still rendered all that he saw blue, but the door of his room lay ajar, and from where he sat, he could see a glimpse of something… familiar.

The fox allowed itself in, its fur even more beautiful under the moon, and Sasuke, entranced, followed it with his eyes as it circled through the room. It held in its mouth a dagger that Sasuke recognized as his own, and after several minutes of pacing through the room, launched at Sasuke with a power and might that the boy hadn’t thought possible. It’s teeth glistened in the light, but instead of tearing Sasuke’s flesh and sinking its teeth into his neck, it threw the knife at him with a violent shake of its head, and turned back towards the door.

Sasuke awoke clutching his tantō in his right hand, knuckles turning white as he pointed it towards the door, where the fox had stood mere seconds ago. He raised his other hand to wipe away the sweat on his brow with the back of his yukata’s sleeve, and slowly lowered his double-edged weapon.

As he settled back onto his modest futon, he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly this nine-tailed fox was, but before he could get too deep into reflection, a wave of exhaustion came over him, and he drifted into a calm sleep, one that would last until the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> For reference, Itachi's jisei is actually attributed to Yukio Mishima in real life.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @kimimarowo (pls come yell at me about this fic 😌)


	2. The Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sasuke meets a pale-haired boy, and asks himself what it means to have a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Only one left! (but oh boy is it a loaded one).  
> I hope you enjoy, and as always feedback is much appreciated!

“It’s all in the breath, Sasuke. Center your energy within,” that’s what Itachi had said back in their training days. Nowadays Sasuke trained alone, in a little clearing on the Namikaze estate. It was a peaceful patch of undisturbed grass that Yamato had shown him during his second week of work. He still hadn’t met the boy he was meant to protect, the elusive Naruto, and so he stuck to improving his technique and knife skills, without knowing what would be required of him in the coming weeks.

Sasuke let out a steady breath, feeling his heartbeat in the tips on his fingers as they wrapped around his wide array of daggers and throwing knives.

In one sharp and fluid motion he jumped, throwing each knife at the speed of light, aiming for the twelve targets he had set up in the little clearing. He heard the shock of metal on metal as he redirected some mid-air, and when the clinking stopped he let out a languid breath.

He had heard only eleven knives land, and as he turned to the one target that hadn’t been hit, he came face to face with a smiling boy.

“You’re quite good with those,” he said, holding one of Sasuke’s little daggers between his long fingers. His voice flowed soft and gentle, much like the long pale hair that spilled onto his back. He had lines on his cheeks - three on each side - and they each angled up towards his clear blue eyes as he smiled.

Sasuke held out a palm, demanding his knife back, “Not good enough, if your catching it is any indication of my skill.”

“Fair rebuttal, but you omit one crucial fact” the boy responded, eyes crinkling up into half-crescents as he still smiled. 

“That being?”

“That I,” he held up the dagger in front of Sasuke, waving it lightly as he spoke, “am an extraordinary man” and with a teasing grin he lay the knife onto Sasuke’s waiting palm. 

Sasuke blushed at his words, pocketing the knife in his embarrassed hurry, “And do extraordinary men have names?”

The boy smiled, bowing lightly as he answered, “Indeed they do. Mine is Naruto Uzumaki,” and Sasuke’s eyes grew to the size of two miniature moons as he realized that this smiling, teasing boy was his new master.

“Sir!” he half-shouted, quickly bowing, “It’s an honor to serve you, Lord Uzumaki,” 

And Naruto let out a booming laugh that echoed all through the forest, “Quit it with the formulas, Sasuke, only Yamato speaks like that around here!” and Sasuke felt a slight wave of shock at the words, and also perhaps felt his pride threatened at the prospect of having to work for a boy his own age. 

“Alright then, Naruto,” Sasuke started, a hint of anoyance in his otherwise respectful tone, “As I have been hired to protect you, I would appreciate some time to train alone,” and Naruto’s smile faded slightly, leaving its place to a much less animated, but much more noble, expression.

“Very well then, I’ll leave you to your training,” and he turned back towards the main building like a child having been denied playtime, his long hair displaying a soft silver hue as he stepped into the sunlight.

Sasuke thought nothing of it, instead he picked up his knives and repeated the previous exercise, with only one nagging thought in the back of his brain that grew with every second like a parasitic mushroom, “I must regain my honor, I must prove my worth”. It felt counterproductive, to seek honor, the thing that had so clearly taken Itachi from him, but without a brother’s guidance he hadn’t a clue what else to do. 

When he finally made back it to his new quarters, the moon was there to welcome him home.

In the morning, Sasuke could feel the gentle tremor of his muscles, a result, no doubt, of his stubborn training the previous day. He’d thrown punch after punch at a particularly sturdy tree, and his bruised knuckles stung as he awoke. 

He’d also thrown his twelve daggers so many times that he dreamt (in excruciatingly vivid detail) that he was doomed to repeating this cycle of exercise until the end of his life. He was, in the dream, much like the greek hero Sisyphus: constrained to forced and unending labor that sucked the soul straight out of life. The dream had ended not with Sasuke’s death, though, but with a glistening silver fox sinking its ivory teeth into his neck.

He paid the dream no attention, thinking to himself that he ought to be above foolish beliefs that designated dreams as hidden prophecies (the truth was that he had woken up terrified, but firmly refused to admit it - even to himself). 

Though it was late spring, the morning air carried with it a humidity that usually indicated summer. Sasuke cursed his uniform as he dressed himself, dreading the day he was bound to spend sweating away in his layers of tightly woven fabrics. As he tied the purple obi around his waist, he couldn’t help but glance at the many discarded manuscripts on his little desk. He sighed as he exited the room, poetry would have to wait for another day.

He stepped out into the corridor that connected his room to the main building. It was a walkway of wooden boards shielded from the sun by large ceilings, and the corridor’s lack of walls allowed Sasuke to see Lord Yamato and Lord Uzumaki, both sitting on the estate’s training grounds, engaged in light conversation. At the clinking of his swords, both turned to look, and Yamato called out after him.

“Sasuke, come here boy,” Yamato’s voice was firm, and from his tone Sasuke understood that it was mandatory for him to approach his two masters. He stepped out into the sun’s glow, and quickly reached the fighting grounds where Naruto kneeled before a beautifully polished and engraved katana. He sported a simple warrior’s uniform, much less adorned than the robes that Sasuke had previously seen him in, and his hair was neatly tied in a formal half bun, much like Sasuke’s own.

Sasuke bowed before the both of them, a show of respect to please Lord Yamato, before the eldest spoke up, “At Lord Namikaze’s death, he asked for me to make sure that Naruto received some formal training,” and Sasuke nodded, expecting Yamato to ask him to give Naruto simple pointers on fighting styles and techniques, but he couldn’t help his surprise from showing when Yamato followed this up with “for this reason, I would like you and Naruto to fight”.

It was against every single instinct that had been instilled into him by Itachi. You protected a master, regardless of whether or not you liked him, and the aim of your work was always to keep others from laying a single finger on his person: this included your own. But Lord Yamato had asked, and who was Sasuke to refuse his employer a request, even as contradictory as it was.

He glanced at Naruto’s shining katana, then nodded facing Lord Yamato, “Anything for the young master,” he said, and Yamato smiled, content with the response. The Lord stepped back to the edge of the fighting grounds as Naruto stood up to meet Sasuke’s eye, and Sasuke felt his heart rate slowly rise in tandem with his master.

“I warn you,” Naruto said, a glint of something mischievous in the iris of his eyes, “I am not one known for holding back,” and at this Sasuke smiled, feeling a fire light deep inside.

“Neither am I,” he noted, pulling out his nagamaki and discarding the sheath on the luxurious grass next to Yamato.

He finally had a chance to prove himself to Lord Yamato. To, in essence, confirm that Itachi had been right in letting him live to see another day. 

The two boys exchanged a shallow bow, then took hold of their respective swords as the fight started. They walked in a circle, weapons raised as they intently looked into each other’s eyes, attempting to discern what their opponent would do next. Though this was a ‘play fight’, the weapons were very much real, and they reflected the sun’s glow with their naked blades.

Sasuke moved first, almost eager to make his mark. Holding the nagamaki with both hands, he swung it to the left hoping to catch Naruto’s side with the flat part of his blade, but his eyes widened in shock when instead of finding cloth, his blade clinked against Naruto’s own. He stepped back, puzzled, and adjusted his grip on the leather handle. His bruised knuckles stretched around the handle made him ache, it was true, but he refused to let his pain show.

How strange, he thought, that this nobleman’s son could wield a weapon so effortlessly. Naruto hadn’t even seemed fazed at the attack, and with simple poise still stared at Sasuke.

“It has taken me years to perfect a calm you do not yet possess,” the fair haired boy commented, and something about the way he uttered the words made Sasuke’s very soul sting.

“Why would you opt for calm when engaged in ferocious battle?” he retorted, and with a teasing grin added a low “Hm, Lord Naruto?”

And still undisturbed he responded, “In remaining calm I spare many lives that otherwise would be lost,” and charging forward with his katana he added, “including yours”.

He lunged once, twice, and on the third occasion Sasuke countered the strike with his sword, holding it above his face, crossed with Naruto’s blade. The younger was pushing onto the blade, trying to make Sasuke fall back onto the ground, but Sasuke refused to let it end this way.

“Can’t this ‘calm’ be construed as you holding back?” Sasuke asked, concentrating on keeping his balance as Naruto pushed more and more of his weight against the blade.

And, giving one single and final push that laid Sasuke flat onto the ground, Naruto countered, “Not if it helps me win every time”.

Naruto’s gaze pierced into his eyes, and Sasuke felt his pulse quicken at the sight of the tip of Naruto’s katana, mere centimeters from his head. He lay panting, observing the rise and fall of Naruto’s chest as he stared down at him, hair falling into his blue eyes in the glare of sunlight, and Sasuke could see beads of sweat pearling onto the pale-haired boy’s jaw. He saw the way his parted lips sucked in air as he panted lightly, and the slight silver light that illuminated his eyes from within. Sasuke felt a gentle fluttering in his chest but paid it no mind. Awaiting the final blow he closed his eyes, only to hear the clanging of Naruto’s blade hitting the ground.

He opened his eyes to find Naruto walking away, muttering a low “Too bad for your honor,” as his hair softly ondulated in the wind.

Sasuke sighed and let his head fall back onto the ground as he tried to ignore Lord Yamato’s disapproving glare.

He would have to do better.

***

Sasuke kneeled onto the bare wooden floor of the estate’s temple. It wasn’t so much a real temple as an empty, quiet room, but when he’d stepped inside he’d felt a sacred pull, and had resolved himself to calling it as such. He’d been surprised to find foxes painted on the walls, single-tailed ones, but with the same sly eyes as the one he’d seen so often.

He stared down into his hands at a small, torn, piece of parchment, and softly gasped when he found himself shedding a tear. He blotted the paper straight away with his sleeve, hoping Itachi’s final words would not bleed away like he had.

He didn’t know why he was rereading the jisei, but every time he skimmed the words his heart grew heavier. As he thought back to the fight he shed more silent tears, and cursed himself for having lost a chance to prove his worth. Itachi had called him “The finest Uchiha-born man to still walk this earth,” so why on earth was he feeling so weak?

Before anyone had the chance to catch him crying, he wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand, and felt the salty liquid across his bruised bones. Maybe this was why, he thought, maybe it was because he had overworked himself the day before. He found comfort in the thought, but knew it to be wrong.

He had won fights with a body much wearier than this. No it wasn’t his body that had betrayed him, it was his heart. What had the boy said again? “It has taken me years to perfect a calm you do not yet possess”. The sentence had burned a hole into Sasuke’s pride.

He was never one to stop and think, never one to hold back in the face of an enemy. He figured the fastest course of action was always the most direct path to victory, and yet he had been defeated by a boy who had the eyes of a fox, and the allure of a mountain sage.

In the silence of the room a voice arose, “Why are you so sulky?” and turning his head to the entrance of the temple, Sasuke saw Naruto, in noble garb this time, complete with an awkward smile. 

He didn’t give an answer, but Naruto stepped forward and kneeled besides him in silence, looking to the single candle that illuminated the small room.

“I understand the pain you carry, it mirrors my own quite accurately,” he said, gingerly placing his hands onto his lap as he spoke, “You’re quite alone in this world now, aren’t you?” and, pausing, Naruto felt a sting in his very core. He, too, was alone, and knew how much Sasuke needed some kind words, “But at least you’re a good fighter”. 

Choking back a second wave of tears, Sasuke answered, “Yet defeated by those I am to protect,” and Naruto turned to him in disbelief. 

He could hardly see his face, but the soft shake of his broad shoulders gave away his emotion. He had thought Sasuke so strong, so stoic in the face of adversity, but was surprised to find himself before a boy, nothing more. A boy with an aching soul like his, who needed a friend that wasn’t made of steel.

“You’re a good-hearted man, Sasuke,” and he meant the words, had uttered them with the most gentle tone he could muster, and yet the shaking of Sasuke’s shoulders only grew stronger.

“What good is a heart if the rest of me is worthless?” and his voice only grew weaker, consumed by the pain and sorrow of having lost a fight, and above all, a brother.

Naruto’s serene expression vanished.

“Enough!” his voice cut through Sasuke’s inner monologue, startling him into listening, “Even the earth is to die one day, and when all the ash has fallen and the sun comes glowing near, with its flaming beams melting your rosy cheeks, you will be proud to be a man that can boast a good heart”.

The temple fell silent.

For a minute Sasuke stared in shock, and Naruto returned a forceful gaze, until Sasuke thickly swallowed and choked out a little “Yes, Lord Uzumaki”.

Naruto nodded calmly and stood up, turning back towards the door and adding “Do not speak of yourself in such terms, Sasuke,” before vanishing into the private gardens. Sasuke once again read the jisei, and felt a new rush of determination.

His young master had given him the strength to hope for better times, and as he left the temple he found it hard to ignore the soft, accelerated beating of his heart. 

From then on, whenever Sasuke trained, he allowed Naruto to come and help. The pale-haired boy was a fantastic battle partner it turned out, and as they deepened their knowledge of swordsmanship, a strange sense of belonging emerged. The blossoming friendship - if you could call it that - was too fragile and too precious to Sasuke for him to question it, though. One wrong move would see it lost, and he wasn’t quite sure he could handle that just yet. 

Once, sat at the little desk in his room, he had recalled seeing Naruto, asleep in the grass beneath the afternoon sun, next to a small river full of singing toads. It had both hurt and soothed him, how alone the pale-haired boy seemed despite his marine companions. His own loneliness echoed Naruto’s, and he understood, finally, why this friendship mattered so: neither of them had anyone, if not each other. Yes, Naruto had always had Yamato by his side, but they weren’t friends, Sasuke thought. No, they were an adoptive father and a son, a bodyguard and his master at the worst of times. 

Sasuke felt himself different, considered himself a friend of his young master above all, and the thought flushed his cheeks a deep cherry red. It went against what he’d been taught, but who were the samurai to give him lessons in affection? Before Sasuke could register what was happening, the script of a poem had poured out of him, and onto the edge of his precious parchment. He sat back, content, and set down his ink-saturated brush.

In his dreams that night he had seen the fox, and for the first time it allowed him to pet its glistening fur. It had grown less and less aggressive as time passed, and Sasuke had felt his heart flutter and his hands instinctively pulled towards the fox when it had laid down in the dream and shown its silver neck. Sasuke had sat cross-legged before it, and stroked its magnificent coat until the sunlight had woken him. He thought back to it the entire day through.

Beneath the cherry tree, everything fell into place. 

That night he had carried his many scrolls outside as the full moon finally made itself visible, and had started rereading every single poem of his. It felt like a walk through the garden of his life: he saw himself grow up and break many times through the words he had written, and smiled fondly as he recalled old adventures and passions.

The moon, once again, soothed every fiber of his being, and he was grateful to be able to enjoy such peace. So engrossed in this delightful bliss, he almost didn’t notice it when Naruto came and sat down next to him, in the shade of the soft pink flowers above.

“What are we reading?” he asked softly, and Sasuke, so calm under the silver moon, simply gestured to the scattered manuscripts and offered, “Take your pick, my Lord”.

Naruto took a hold of the largest scroll, and stared at the poems Sasuke had already written. The dark-haired boy’s past rage became more and more apparent as he read, each character filled with a passion so wild. He saw pain in the messy brushstrokes that merged into kanji, saw it in the way each poem ended abruptly: each poem but a single one. Naruto’s eyes drifted to the edge of the parchment, where were tenderly etched the words to a poem titled “A Fox”:

きつね

狐は知っている  
この日当たりのいい枯野に  
自分が一人しかいないのを

A Fox

A fox knows,  
on this sunny desolate field,  
that it is all alone.

“Who is this fox?” Naruto asked, breath catching in his throat as he turned to a red-cheeked Sasuke.

The young man smiled shyly, turning his flushed face towards the blue moon, “A boy I knew once,” and as he said it a gentle wind picked up and blew his dark hair back into his face.

Naruto could feel the soft thumping of his heart against his ribcage. He remembered the tearing feeling that burst into his chest when he had seen Sasuke sat in the temple, silently weeping at his own powerlessness. How ardently he had wished that the boy would see his own worth. His heart sped up some more.

“Someone you wish to protect?” he questioned, and he could feel Sasuke’s eyes on the side of his face, could feel the warmth of his stare against his naked neck. A cloud passed over the moon and plunged them into darkness, and even the toads quieted down as he waited for Sasuke’s answer.

Softly he whispered, “You already know,” and Naruto couldn’t help but feel his happiness grow, illuminating his chest with bursting warmth, and making him smile from the inside out. 

And as both of them sat smiling, the moon shone upon them once again.

“Yeah, I already know”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Hope you liked this soft gay mess!
> 
> Again, Sasuke's poem here (A Fox) is actually attributed to Shinjiro Kurahara in real life :)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @kimimarowo (once again pls come yell at me)


	3. The Fox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the world stands still as Sasuke's heart nearly spills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Quick note: I'm renaming this AU 'Kitsune' (meaning fox in Japanese). It's not a note relevant to the plot, but I just thought I'd mention it in case :). Alright, enjoy!

One singular evening, when the wind blew warm onto his rounded cheeks, Sasuke made his way through the gardens to his little training clearing. The air felt clean around him, and his movements had an assurance he hadn't felt before; for the first time he felt at home in the garden's peace, but as he prepared to jump and throw his daggers once again, a voice interrupted him.

"Will you teach me that?" and Sasuke smiled, could tell who it was without even turning around.

"I'm not half as good at it as Itachi was, but I can try," he half-shouted as he turned to hand Naruto the daggers, hands softly brushing against his in the exchange. Both boys blushed, but quickly shook off their bashful expressions. It had been like this since the cherry tree, had been agonizing to even stand near Naruto. Sasuke found himself hyper-aware, observing his master’s every action without even a conscious thought. He had memorized the curve of the boy's eyelashes, the way they fanned lightly over his cheeks, and the way in which his long hair almost glittered in the sun. He had seen the fox in dreams too. They were peaceful, timid dreams, filled with Sasuke tentatively extending a hand to pet the fox's head. The poem he'd written echoed daily in his skull, and after a while he stopped trying to rid his mind of both the fox and Naruto: if nature wanted him to fawn over them, he was going to do a damn good job at it.

Naruto closed his eyes, imitating the swift movements he'd seen Sasuke execute so many times before. "Center your energy within," Sasuke commanded, and the pale-haired boy obliged. His chest rose and fell with the passing breeze, and he began to feel his body relax, and his mind clear as he concentrated on the sounds of the gardens. He had been here so long, and yet discovered new melodies in the flow of the river and the echoes of the toads. He felt the daggers between his knuckles like extensions of his hand, they each rested against his skin like twelve new metallic fingers. The world began to feel like a well-oiled machine, but just as he found his place in the machinery, an unfamiliar voice shook him back to reality.

"I must admit, I thought you'd be harder to get to, Lord Uzumaki," both boys turned to look, and were stunned to find a boy high up in the treetops, standing on a sturdy branch. His long robes covered his feet and swayed in the wind, and he bore a painted mask that succeeded in protecting his identity: not an inch of skin peeked through.

Sasuke stepped forward next to Naruto, and placed a hand on the nagamaki at his waist, intent to show that he could protect his master, "Who are you, and what do you seek?” He felt his heart race and his skin grow cold as he focused on keeping his breathing even. The most important thing was not to let his nerves show, not to Naruto nor to the stranger.

Said stranger snickered, "I will not concern myself with the demands of an honorless coward. Your name has traveled far and wide, masterless Sasuke Uchiha," and Sasuke felt a sting of horror at the words, at the realization that samurai all across the land had probably been made aware of his survival through passing gossip or comrades. His eyes grew distant, almost red with rage as he tried to distance himself from his shame but to no avail. Satisfied, the stranger turned to Naruto, "I'll divulge my identity to a Lord such as you, though. I am Haku, student of Lord Momochi, and I come bearing orders to destroy all that is here, in retribution for an attack on my village long ago," and he said it with a bow that, though sincere, felt like nothing but a bitter slap across the face to both Naruto and Sasuke.

"Really though," he quickly added, "A Lord of your caliber, guarded by a lowlife such as this, you must be a fool to think he can protect you alone."

Naruto's silent rage seeped into the air, and he stood, eyes closed and head bowed, as he spoke, "I suggest you pick your words wisely, Haku," he had spat out the name, had violently thrown it into the air to be devoured by carnivorous birds, or to rot at the ends of the earth. Sasuke sensed a shift in the atmosphere, almost as if supernatural forces came into play as Naruto's anger crescendoed.

Haku smiled behind his mask, "Have I insulted your household pet, my Lord?" and his taunting tone made Naruto's head snap up with fury. Sasuke looked on, amazed and terrified, as Naruto's long hair floated around him in the air, his eyes bright with foreign light as he clutched a dagger in his palm. The boy seemed bigger than life itself. Yes, Sasuke thought, in that moment he was a force of nature, simply. The forest had grown entirely quiet, safe from the eerie silence that preceded battle, but before Naruto even took a step, Sasuke understood what was expected of him.

"My name can take the slander, Naruto. Calm down.” He had used the tone his brother had so often employed when he was younger, a tone that said “I understand you,”and immediately Naruto softened, gently nodding as Sasuke unsheathed his blade.

"You seem to think I'm here to play with you," Haku started as he made his way down to the ground. There wasn’t a hint of resentment in his voice, not an ounce of anger or restlessness, only the cold calculated tone of someone ready to follow orders at any cost. It brought a shiver to Sasuke’s spine: this boy was everything he couldn’t bring himself to become. He was willing to wager that, were this Lord Momochi to do as Itachi had, Haku would not hesitate for even a single second before following his master into the light of the underworld.

Haku reached the ground and in a swift motion rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, then proclaimed, “I am merely here to end you, and quickly at that," and as he raised his arm, Sasuke recognized an unmistakable metallic glint between the boy's slender fingers. They were senbon, acupuncture needles that weren’t customarily employed in battle. One would have to be incredibly skilled to wield them with such confidence, and blocking them would be impossibly difficult at this distance. So be it, Sasuke though, and by force of instinct he positioned himself between Naruto and Haku, thrusting his blade forward as he felt Haku's senbon pierce the tender flesh on the side of his neck.

Naruto looked on, horrified.

“Why did you do that?"

"My body moved on its own," he answered, turning to face Naruto as he smiled. It was a crooked little smirk because of the senbon in his neck, but it made Naruto's heart weakly ache with affection. Warm blood dripped onto his pale skin from where the needles had struck, and he could feel the area growing numb with every slight shake of his head. It was poison, he thought, or maybe some snake's precious venom. Either way, it was smart of Haku to have used it; after all, senbon were rarely ever lethal on their own.

Haku had fallen to his knees, trembling hands covering a growing stain of red on his side, and Sasuke thanked the gods for the extended range that his nagamaki's long handle had provided. Haku would die in the coming days, either from the loss of blood or from infection, and as the world around him grew increasingly blurry, Sasuke couldn't help a smile.

“Finally,” he thought, “I’m worthy of being at his side.”

***  
The hospital wasn’t a hospital, but as he observed Sasuke’s shivering frame, Naruto wished that it was. They had converted the temple into a makeshift infirmary, complete with an attentive ’nurse’ by Sasuke’s side. Naruto only ever left when Yamato forced him to go on walks or feed himself, and though he didn’t feel like he required nourishment, it truly made him feel better. Not because his body craved anything, not by a long shot, but because Yamato’s stubborn affection reminded him of a doting mother: Naruto never opposed him.

He worried though, and his thoughts were getting the better of him. They grew like parasites, like pesky little mushrooms, sprouting up in various areas of his brain and impossible to truly banish. He kept circling back to pessimistic musings, and though Yamato worked his hardest to soothe the fear inside his heart, quite an imposing part of it remained.

What if Sasuke never woke up? That was the first and gravest one, a thought to worry one to death. Naruto couldn’t fathom the possibility, refused to contemplate a reality where Sasuke was just another corpse in the ground. He did not want to forget, he realized, but when the time came his memory would fail him, and ultimately… Ultimately there would be another, and Sasuke would fade beyond recognition. The prospect nearly made him sick. 

Or else, what if he did wake? What if he opened his eyes and forgot all about the past? What would happen then? Naruto felt tears forming as he contemplated a Sasuke that didn’t know his name, a Sasuke that had no memory of showing him poems under a cherry tree. What, then, would it have been for? He felt his heart squeezing in protest. 

And when he stopped worrying, when he only focused on dressing Sasuke’s wounds and wiping away his cold sweats, he found his mind drifting to silent yearning. No thoughts passed through his brain, but he felt a pull, a strange urge to hold the Uchiha in his arms and protect him from the world, from the likes of Haku with their poisons and weapons. He wished they could escape into the woods, into a world where nothing else mattered. His daydreams always ended when he remembered the boy in the trees, and Sasuke’s purple lips anchored him to reality. 

It took three days. Three excruciatingly long days of Sasuke softly convulsing in his makeshift bed until nature finally let him see the light again. It blinded him at first, and all he could discern for a minute were the foxes on the walls around him. He felt surprisingly okay, with only an ache in his neck and a tingle in his immobile limbs. Haku had surely died by then, and Sasuke’s victory was cemented by his passing. It was strange, how another’s failure was his victory. The thought didn’t sit quite right with him, but he could ignore it easily enough if it meant that he got to stay by Naruto’s side. His sandpaper voice surprised him as he opened his dry mouth, “Lord Naruto?”

The boy’s head snapped around, hair hovering around him as he rushed to Sasuke’s side, and with tears in his eyes he softly cupped the boy’s cheeks, “You’re awake! And you know my name,” and though it was ridiculous, he smiled, tears wetting Sasuke’s cheeks as they fell. 

“I was worried I wouldn’t wake up, had strange dreams in there,” and it was true. Sasuke had been plagued with dreams of sleeping on a giant fox’s back, and though the dreams were persistent, they weren’t unpleasant. He had slumbered unflinchingly for days on top of the silver fur, and the nine tails had made a stellar blanket. Still, he had worried, had hungered for Naruto’s company and shivered at the thought of never meeting him again. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Naruto whispered, and felt his heartbeat irregularly quicken. 

Sasuke smiled weakly, raising a hand to pull Naruto’s face to his. If you had asked him why he couldn’t have answered, but there was something about the fluttering of his heart that simply commanded it. He needed the kiss. Needed Naruto’s soft pink lips on his own like he needed water to survive. It was a soft kiss, but the moment had knocked all of the air out of his lungs, and it felt so right that tears flooded his closed eyes. When he opened them again and finally pulled away, seeing Naruto’s flushed cheeks and wide bright eyes, he couldn’t help but flash a content smile, “Yeah, I’m glad I’m back too.”

A few days later, Yamato looked from the shadows as the two boys made their way to the forest, hands shyly intertwined as they exchanged silent stares. The sight brought a smile to his otherwise stoic face, and he couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief as Sasuke absentmindedly rubbed circles onto Naruto’s thumb. “About time you found someone, Naruto,” he thought, “I won’t be here for you forever,” and the happiness that washed over him left his heart softly aching. 

Naruto led Sasuke through dense foliage, uncovering shortcuts in the woods that Sasuke would’ve never even thought of looking for. It was awe-inspiring, how easily Naruto found his way through nature, but before Sasuke could expand on the thought they reached a clearing. It was luxurious, with dewy grass carpeting the ground and flowers blooming all around. Sasuke smiled at the sight of the camellias.

Naruto pulled Sasuke’s hand, trying to get the black haired boy to lay next to him in the grass, and they both collapsed onto the ground with a sigh of relief and exhaustion, a soft content smile growing on both their faces as they giggled like schoolchildren. Sasuke half-opened his eyes as he caught his breath and found Naruto shining him an immaculate smile. His pale hair fell into his eyes before they crinkled up into crescents, and Sasuke thought that he really was beautiful like that, when the sun hit his face with a soft peach glow and he smiled his biggest smile, the one that affected even his eyes. 

“What are you laughing about?” he sat up and asked, and in a second Naruto’s face was just inches from his, eyes staring deep into his chocolate irises, and he felt a fire start at the pit of his stomach. 

Sasuke thought that Naruto must’ve felt the way his heart was beating all out of order, or felt how his breaths had gone shallow and irregular, but Naruto only smiled some more and cupped his burning red cheeks with his hands, thumbs softly tracing more circles onto the boy’s soft skin. 

“This is nice,” Naruto sighed, and he brought his face even closer, the tip of their noses brushing together, and just that had Sasuke’s hands shaking softly, and he was pretty sure that if he stood his knees might give out on him. His face flushed even more as he looked into Naruto’s blue eyes, and the words left his mouth before he could even think them. 

“You’re so pretty,” Sasuke exclaimed, and immediately felt himself blush a deep cherry red, his cheeks burning up with embarrassment. He backed away slightly, reaching deep into his pocket to present Naruto with a small scroll, “I wrote you something,” and with a smile he handed it to him. It read as such;

“And all should cry ‘Beware! Beware!  
His flashing eyes, his floating hair  
Weave a circle ‘round him thrice  
And close your eyes with holy dread,  
For he on honey-dew hath fed,  
And drunk the milk of paradise”

“When did you write this?” Naruto asked, and instead of giving an answer, Sasuke replied with a question of his own, a question he’d been burning to ask since his first day on the estate.

"Have you ever seen it?”

Naruto looked to him confused, eyes narrowing as he spoke, ”Seen what?”

"The fox that lives around here," Sasuke stated, eyes shining as he recalled his fox companion and stared straight at the leaves above, "It led me to the estate the first time I came, and it's been coming to me in dreams ever since.”

"No, Sasuke," Naruto took a deep breath, words catching in his throat as he forcefully pushed them out, “That's just… me.”

And Sasuke's expression grew surprised as he stared, “That’s… you?"

The boy nodded, looking at Sasuke then back at the leaves, “I thought Yamato explained it when he hired you. I was born long ago, and though you see me as a young man, I am as old as the earth's boiling core," at this he stopped, turning to face Sasuke. He hadn’t ever revealed who he was to someone, not in circumstances like this anyways, and he felt his ribcage like twisting and contracting around his lungs. Sasuke didn’t seem afraid, so for good measure he added, "You've heard the legends surely, I can manipulate my appearance and live virtually forever. They call people like me Kitsune”

And Sasuke, stunned, echoed the words ”… Nine-tailed foxes, immortal spirits," he failed to find the right response, and took Naruto’s hand in his instead, “Wasn't Lord Namikaze your father?"

"He acted as such, but in truth I needed him for protection,” and he smiled softly at the soft pressure that Sasuke applied to his fingers.

"Your own protection?”

"No, the city’s. You've seen what happens when I lose control, I needed him to hold me down. Itachi was meant to replace Lord Namikaze as my guardian, but he was called home to you,"

Sasuke nodded slowly, unable to keep a subtle pout from appearing on his lips, "And you have Yamato now," he muttered, more for his own heart’s sake than Naruto's.

Naruto shook his head, chuckling lightly at Sasuke’s pout and lifting up his chin with his index, ”I have you now," and he once again drew closer, this time pressing his soft lips into Sasuke’s. The world all around seemed to grow denser, Sasuke thought, hotter too, and when Naruto finally slipped a hand into his hair, he couldn’t help but let out a slight moan. It was embarrassing, how pliant he was in the Lord’s hands, but it also felt so deceptively simple. If anyone knew of the affair, both of them would be shunned, but Sasuke learned quickly that the world started and ended with Naruto Uzumaki, and that nothing else was of any importance.

The thought kept him going even in the darkest of days.

It had helped when Lord Yamato had called him into his office for ‘a talk’. Sasuke knew what that was code for, he was being tested. Yamato had set up the table exactly as it had been the first time they’d met: one porcelain jug of sake, two little glasses, scrolls scattered about not quite as randomly as they seemed. Yamato had taken him by surprise too, had broken the silence after pouring the sake with the question, “Are you scared of him?” and Sasuke had nearly spat out his drink.

He took a moment to recover, coughing into his elbow for a minute before choking out a weak but determined, “On the contrary, Lord Yamato, I trust him with my life..”

Yamato stared for a silent minute, lips pulled tightly together like they often were, and when he finally spoke up, the suddenness of it all made Sasuke jump a little in his seat, ”But you've heard the stories, no? Foxes as high as tsunamis, crushing entire bathhouses with a single step.”

"I never thought… I never knew they held any truth,” and he was sincere. He’d heard about the nine-tailed spirits, had heard their tales as bedtime stories when he was a child, but never did he think they existed, or that he’d ever meet one, let alone find solace in one’s company. It was surreal, how much there was to understand about Naruto, but still Sasuke felt at ease: Naruto was only a boy he cared for, and all the rest was secondary.

Lord Yamato downed his glass, quickly pouring a second one as he answered, “Believe me, they hold as much truth as your heart or mine. I've seen it, entire houses, lives swatted out of existence by a single one of those nine tails.”

"I think I almost did too, in that fight against Haku. His hair started floating and his eyes glowed.”

Yamato nodded, taking a sip of the sake and inhaling sharply, “He doesn't mean to, but kid's got anger buried deep. He tries to be calm, he really does, but then…”

“But he loses control when he cares too deeply,” and Sasuke softly smiled at Yamato's words, at the fondness the man demonstrated by calling a several-centuries old spirit a ‘kid'. 

"He's yours to protect, you know? You're his peace now, Sasuke,” Yamato downed the second glass, and stood up fast, taking a few shaky steps towards the doorway, but before he could leave, Sasuke called out to him, “What will you do, Lord Yamato?“ and the man smiled fondly towards the trees while avoiding turning around, to hide the growing sea upon his cheeks.

“Ah, don't worry about me in all of this. Itachi was right, you know," and raising a hand to wipe his face he added, “You have been most adequate, Sasuke. It's been an honor to work alongside you,” and on those words he disappeared deep into the gardens.

The toads cheered happily the next day as the boys rested near the river, and the afternoon sun was kind enough to blanket itself in passing clouds. Sasuke hadn’t seen Lord Yamato since their meeting the previous night, and he attributed the nagging ache in his skull to all the sake that he’d had. He was never one to handle his alcohol well, but as Naruto hummed nameless airs into the atmosphere, he couldn’t help but feel a deep warmth settle within his chest. It didn’t fade one bit as Naruto stopped humming.

“It’s always going to be a little weird, don’t you think?” Naruto said, turned over on his side to gently pet one of the toads. The little guy croaked, then jumped to another nearby leaf, and Naruto turned to face Sasuke.

“Why would it be?” and Naruto looked away again, eyes filling up with tears he didn’t want to show. His heart grew heavy at the thought, at the amount of words he wanted to spill but couldn’t. There was so much to say, so much that he condensed in seventeen words.

“It’s like the world punishes me by forcing all I love to die before I ever can.”

And Sasuke thought silently for a minute, turning Naruto around to gently wipe his cheeks with his sleeve all the while. It stung, to see the boy feel such boundless anguish, but Sasuke’s eyes lit up when he finally found an answer, “I’ll always be with you though, so long as you don’t forget me.”

And it was so simple, so astonishingly simple, how Sasuke had dissipated centuries of worries with eight little syllables. Naruto pecked a kiss onto the boy’s cheek, heart settling into quiet peace as he did so, “And how could I ever?”

***  
60 YEARS LATER

Sasuke huffed a shallow breath into the ink-dark night, and though his eyes glazed over his wrinkled lips arched up into a smile. The cherry tree stood strong despite its years, and the flowers on it were just starting to bloom. Sasuke had loved that tree for so long, had written countless poems under its fragrant flowers, and by a stroke of luck - or maybe fate - had managed to die resting on its sturdy trunk. He had been old, and yet Naruto had felt his love grow with every wrinkle of his lover's face, and had grown fond of the leathery-smooth skin of Sasuke's palms against his cheeks. He had played the game of time as well, had altered his appearance to live as Sasuke did, and had seen himself look old for the first time in his agonizingly long life.

When he reached the cherry tree that night, Naruto simply froze. He had learned to smell death in the air, to discern its cold scent between that of cherry blossoms and damp grass. He saw the smile on Sasuke's face, and the parchment laid out before him, and all he could manage was to sink to his knees and try to still his aching heart. The ink was still wet on the fragile paper, and the brush still lay in Sasuke's open palm. Naruto blinked, then understood, and with silent tears read the jisei, Sasuke's final words:

願はくは  
花の下にて  
春死なむ  
その如月の  
望月のころ

I wish to die  
in spring, beneath  
the cherry blossoms,  
while the springtime moon  
is full.

He thought back to the cherry tree that night, to the first poem Sasuke had let him read, and understood that the boy had wished to die right then, to preserve the tender moment for eternity. He held the parchment to his chest and weakly smiled as crystal tears rolled down his flushed cheeks.

"The moon for you, my dear Sasuke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Last chapter! Once again, the first poem is attributed to Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Kubla Khan), and Sasuke's jisei is attributed to Saigyo Hoshi (c. 1190).
> 
> I hope you liked this! Can't believe I actually finished it haha. Feel free to leave any feedback, and you can find me on tumblr @kimimarowo.
> 
> Until the next one, 💘


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